


The weight of my bones

by dana_norram



Series: Halcyon days [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fisting, Hand Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Minor Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko, Porn with Feelings, Soft Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Spooning, What Happened in Malta (The Old Guard)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dana_norram/pseuds/dana_norram
Summary: “Please,” Nicolò says aloud, and Yusuf blinks, his full attention back to the small room around them. The summer air is heavy and stuffy, the salty smell from the sea lingering on their naked skin. Nicolò clenches around Yusuf’s fingers, and he feels his chest hollow, like his own heart had made it all the way up his throat.“Are you sure?” Yusuf chokes, somehow regretting his words from earlier, right after he managed to squeeze a fourth finger in and then declared, half-drunk in pleasure:You are taking it so well, my heart, I think... I think I could fit my whole hand inside of you.Or, that time in Malta.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: Halcyon days [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2180193
Comments: 45
Kudos: 194





	The weight of my bones

**Author's Note:**

> This is firstly [goldheartedsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldheartedsky)’s fault, but I also hit a wall in my Big Bang fic and somehow I thought that fisting was a "good way to warm up the old writing skills" ~ all credit to this genius sentence, btw, goes to [Michelle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/side_biddy/), who also edited the first draft of this thing. She’s an angel and deserves all love, so go check her works! The amazing [Aqua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sal_si_puedes/) read the second draft and as always, kept track of their positions in bed and help me to make it better. She writes phenomenal smut, which I wholeheartedly recommend.
> 
> So far this fandom has made me write a/b/o and fisting, two tropes/kinks I never dreamt about trying my hand on (lol). What’s next, I wonder? Coffee Shop AU? Fake dating? Who knows. I most certainly don’t. You gotta stay tuned to find out.

“Do it.”

Yusuf pauses, convinced he must have heard it wrong. He can see the back of Nicolò’s head between his shoulder blades. Nicolò’s hair is wet and dark, plastered against his skull, and he is shaking somewhat badly, wrapped around Yusuf’s fingers. His breathing is ragged and shallow, and Yusuf decides he cannot have that. He bends his head to press a kiss on Nicolò’s tailbone, willing him to relax.

They have been working themselves up for quite some time now, Nicolò on his hands and knees over the bed, Yusuf kneeling behind him, kissing and licking every patch of skin available. They are panting, a thin layer of sweat covering both of them. Yusuf has four fingers inside Nicolò’s body and he did not plan to get that far. Nicolò usually does not need that much stretching, but he has been tense lately. They both have.

Almost three months ago, Andromache had fled their camping site in the Algarve, leaving behind only a note assuring she is going to meet them back in Malta during the next winter solstice. She did not reveal where she was going, and Yusuf understood her reasons. It’s been almost a century since they lost Quỳnh to the sea, but the wound feels raw still, the absence of her laugh a hollow sound echoing inside their hearts.

Yusuf had avoided drawing her ever since, but every time he closes his eyes he can picture Quỳnh’s beautiful, fierce face, and he knows Andromache does the same. The three of them have shared close quarters during the last decades as they searched for Quỳnh in every port city in the world and Yusuf has woken up to Andromache’s nightmares more times than he could count. So in the end he and Nicolò had let their sister wander the world by herself and they retreated to their place in Malta, both miserable yet relieved to have each other still.

Nicolò has had a harder time accepting that Andromache needed to be alone and Yusuf could not blame him. Nicolò blamed himself most of all. Yusuf remembers how Nicolò’s face flinched in pain as Andromache screamed herself hoarse about Nicolò’s Church. The Church that had hanged her until they ran out of rope and then condemned Quỳnh to an eternity of iron and salt.

After arriving in Malta, they had made their way inland and worked for weeks to repair their old cabin near Ħal Tartarni village. It had taken even longer for them to feel comfortable enough to touch one another without half expecting Andromache to appear on the threshold, eyes old and always searching for the sound of the ocean.

“Please,” Nicolò says aloud, and Yusuf blinks, his full attention back to the small room around them. The summer air is heavy and stuffy, the salty smell from the sea lingering on their naked skin. Nicolò clenches around Yusuf’s fingers, and he feels his chest hollow, like his own heart had made it all the way up his throat.

“Are you sure?” Yusuf chokes, somehow regretting his words from earlier, right after he managed to squeeze a fourth finger in and then declared, half-drunk in pleasure: _You are taking it so well, my heart, I think... I think I could fit my whole hand inside of you._

“Yusuf,” Nicolò all but begs, thrusting back, fucking himself on Yusuf’s fingers. “Do it, do it now.”

Yusuf swallows dry, his pulse speeding up even more. He knows he cannot really hurt Nicolò, even if he wanted to, but the mere idea of causing him any discomfort feels like a dagger carving into his flesh. He takes a deep breath and reaches for the vial of fragrant oil on their nightstand, opening it with his teeth. He pulls half of his hand out, knuckles still buried in Nicolò’s warmth, and pours oil all over his fingers before pushing them back in. The sound of skin against skin is almost obscene.

“Talk to me,” he says, trying to drown the noises out. “Nicolò.”

Nicolò seems to have withdrawn into himself entirely, trapped somewhere inside his head, because Yusuf needs to curl his fingers inside, rubbing against Nicolò’s bundle of nerves just to get a verbal response out of him. “Please,” Nicolò begs this time, and Yusuf stills his fingers, feeling his heat vibrating around him. “Do not stop.”

“If we are doing this, my heart,” Yusuf says as he thrusts his fingers in and out in a slower pace. “I need to know you are well.”

He proceeds to knead Nicolò’s side with his free hand, coaxing him to relax. Nicolò nods, whole body shaking as Yusuf speeds up, trying to ignore his own aching erection as he watches his fingers disappear inside of Nicolò. Yusuf is suddenly grateful for the summer and the late sunlight that pierces through the curtains, allowing him to drink in the sight of his lover’s thighs spread out before him. He rubs his thumb, glistening with oil, against Nicolò’s reddened rim, and resists the urge to dip his tongue in alongside with his fingers and taste the feverish flesh.

Nicolò’s body feels taut and tight, his back curved like a bow and Yusuf holds his breath as he runs his other hand around Nicolò’s waist and down his stomach, closing it around Nicolò’s half-hard cock. He begins to pump Nicolò into full hardness as he fucks his fingers in and out of his hole, only the tip of his thumb pressing against the rim, but never breaching inside.

“My heart,” Yusuf licks his dry lips. “I need you to relax for me.”

Nicolò shivers, torn between Yusuf’s fingers inside of him and Yusuf’s hand on his cock. Yusuf feels when Nicolò tries to loosen his muscles around him, but Yusuf’s thumb still keeps being pushed back as he tries to push it in along with his fingers. He resists the urge to take them out and just fuck Nicolò with his cock until he manages to wring an orgasm out of him. Instead, he starts to pull on Nicolò’s leaking cock, jerking him off with quick and shallow strokes, rubbing his thumb against the sensitive head. Nicolò whimpers and presses his forehead against the bedding, tilting his ass up in the air, pushing back against Yusuf’s hands.

Yusuf rubs his fingers against Nicolò’s spot, and it does not take long for him to feel Nicolò’s cock twitching before he finally comes with a shout, his whole body convulsing around Yusuf’s strong hold. Yusuf tries to not get distracted by the view before him as he keeps stroking Nicolò through his orgasm, waiting for the moment Nicolò’s entire body suddenly relaxes, before he closes his hand into a cone and _pushes_ in.

Nicolò gasps as the curve of Yusuf’s thumb slips in along with the rest of his hand, his whole fist sinking inside Nicolò’s heat, his rim closing tightly around Yusuf’s wrist. Yusuf feels his own cock giving a jerk and he closes his eyes, breathing through his nose. He lets go of Nicolò’s cock and brings his hand to wrap it around his own length instead. He is suddenly hyperaware of the sticky warmth of Nicolò’s come coating his cock, making it slippery, and the heat of Nicolò’s body around his whole fist. He moans, feeling his orgasm so close he can almost taste it.

“Nicolò,” Yusuf says and barely recognises the sound of his own voice. “My heart, talk to me.”

He half expects Nicolò to have passed out, but he stirs at Yusuf’s words and looks over his shoulder, pale eyes bright and face blissed out. Yusuf squeezes the base of his own cock, trying to delay his climax as long as he can. A warm feeling spreads across his chest as Nicolò smiles back at him.

“I can feel you,” Nicolò says, voice raw and low. “I feel how you could break me, but I know you will not.”

Yusuf lets out a sound that is not a whimper, but something close. He releases his cock so he can grip Nicolò’s hip, keeping him still, then begins to slowly move his fist inside of Nicolò’s pliant body. Nicolò’s face twists, his smile fading and Yusuf almost stops, expecting him to be in pain, when a moan erupts and spills from Nicolò’s lips. Yusuf feels him pushing back against his fist.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò says his name like a prayer as he spreads his legs further apart, and Yusuf obliges him by sinking his fist in and pulling it back, each time faster and harder than the last. Nicolò’s abused rim stretches obscenely around his knuckles. “Please, _please_...”

Nicolò’s voice drops as the sound of Yusuf’s fist pumping in and out of him becomes louder, slowly filling up the whole room. Yusuf’s cock aches at the sore sight and, worried he might come untouched, he speeds up his movements, trying to work Nicolò into another orgasm so they can finish close together. Nicolò mewls as Yusuf sinks his fist further in, rubbing his knuckles against his spot each and every time he pulls out.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò pleads in a broken voice, and Yusuf releases Nicolò’s hip so he can wrap a hand around his own cock, working himself in harsh, inelegant strokes. His balls feel suddenly too tight as something sparks on the edge of his vision, and Yusuf pulls his fist out of Nicolò’s body just in time for him to sink his cock inside.

Nicolò’s quivering walls offer barely any friction, but the heat is more than enough to tip Yusuf over the edge. He slams his balls against Nicolò’s flesh in a broken, swift rhythm, trying to get deeper and deeper, and he madly wonders if he has stretched Nicolò enough so he could try to shove his balls in alongside with his cock.

Yusuf buries his face against Nicolò’s neck as his orgasm washes over him like a wave and he kisses and bites him there, tasting the salt on his skin.

They somehow end up laying side by side, Nicolò’s back pressed against Yusuf chest, one of his legs propped over Yusuf’s thigh. Absently, Yusuf seeks Nicolò’s cock and he feels almost guilty when he finds Nicolò half-hard still. He kisses his neck and takes an earlobe between his teeth as he strokes Nicolò slowly, lazily. Yusuf keeps track of how close Nicolò is as he feels him clenching around his cock still buried inside, and he speeds up as Nicolò’s noises become more urgent and fast-paced. Nicolò comes again between Yusuf’s fingers, and Yusuf buries his nose in his damp hair.

Despite the sun still up outside, Yusuf feels sleep rapidly taking over his senses and he yawns, rubbing his beard against Nicolò’s neck, happy as he feels his heart squirming against him. Nicolò turns his upper body around, a soft smile slowly spreading across his face. Yusuf tips his head forward, and he grabs Nicolò’s chin between his fingers, pulling him in for a kiss that quickly turns into two, then three. His body attempts a half-hearted response to the taste of Nicolò on his tongue, well-aware of his cock almost slipping out of Nicolò’s heat, but he knows they are done for the moment.

Yusuf feels weightless as their lips part so they can press their foreheads together and he stares into Nicolò’s eyes, unafraid of drowning in them. He sighs, letting his eyelids flutter closed. He tucks his face in the crook of Nicolò’s neck, allowing his warm and steady breathing to lure him into sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos help your local ficwriter to not regret her life choices and keep writing porn about our favourite immortal husbands. I reply to all comments, so don’t be shy. You can unleash your beast on me or just drop a lil' heart emoji, I will love you either way. <3
> 
> I got the idea for the title from this [article](https://stepfeed.com/5-deadly-ways-to-say-i-love-you-in-arabic-4542), which supposedly lists _5 deadly ways to say 'I Love You' in Arabic_. I couldn’t get a confirmation about deadly way number 2 (“my bones”), but I liked the sound of it, so here we are. Thank you, [Lisagarland](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisagarland/pseuds/Lisagarland), for listening to me rambling about it.
> 
> My Tumblr is [@negotiumcrucis](http://negotiumcrucis.tumblr.com/), if you partake on that sort of thing. I also spend a unhealthy amount of time @ the top!Joe Discord Server and you guys won’t believe how horny and feral those people are. It’s my favourite place in the world.


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